


lights will guide us home

by ninemoons42



Series: Padmé Lives to Tell the Tale [7]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Women, Gen, Lightsabers, Mission Fic, Padmé Amidala Lives, Rescue Missions, Rogue One - some of them live, Training, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: Just because Padmé's focus has been taken up by her twins and her friends, doesn't mean that she can't still do some good in the galaxy. If that means breaking out an Imperial scientist, then so be it!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes on the twins: 
> 
> In [why we fight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6493444) it’s established that Luke and Leia are in the region of ten standard years of age. Then, an unspecified amount of time passes before Padmé and the others get the heads-up about the Empire building Star Destroyers. 
> 
> By the time that Team White Base picks up Jyn Erso and two of her confederates, Leia is old enough to lead other people into battle. She’s still a very young soldier, though. So let’s say that the story has skipped ahead about a year and a half by the time the events of [this desperate hour](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6665230) and its immediate sequel [don’t call it theft; call it saving the future](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6855730) roll around. 
> 
> At the end of that last story, both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan are training the twins up as Force-sensitive warriors. 
> 
> As this new story begins, the twins are almost thirteen.
> 
> Notes on other characters:
> 
> Having seen _Rogue One: A Star Wars Story_ and been torn to pieces over the fates of the characters, I want to create some kind of better ending and better future for the squad – so yeah, this has turned into one of those some-of-them-live AUs. I figure there’s no harm in putting up another one of those.

Dusk: and the silence of the daylight hours was suddenly broken by high-pitched chirping and humming. The sounds seemed to come from everywhere at once: from the woven rush-floor beneath her feet, to the peaked roof above her head, to just below the sill of Padmé’s open window.

She’d caught a few glimpses of the insects that produced that symphony of calls and cries. Small ones and large ones alike, blind and many-eyed. Some crawled, and some burrowed, and some flew. At night, they emerged from the lairs in which they waited away the muggy heat of the day, making their discordant music with every moment – they would only fall silent at third dawn, when the last of the planet’s suns began to peek over the horizon.

Outside she saw nothing but towering trees. The season of flowering was still a few weeks off. If she left the house, she’d need to walk carefully along the pathways, or else risk falling into the mud from several weeks of rain.

Padmé touched the intricate plaits in her hair. The jewels had come from a lucky find in one of the more isolated Wild Space sectors, purple-hued stones that turned into brilliant jewels when cut in the right way. The larger the stones, the more valuable they were – but Luke had given her a gift of two dozen grain-sized ones, and set them into her hairpins. 

Finally, a cool breeze, and she turned in its direction. Inhaled deeply of the scents of moist earth. Nearby, a large leaf fell to the ground with a quiet thump.

Lights, ahead, clashing and flashing: and there were two white blades against one blue one. And while the blades shrieked and hummed as they came together and then moved apart, the two combatants made not a sound.

She stopped next to Jii-dan, who seemed to be smiling beatifically upon Ahsoka and Kenobi as they circled each other once again. “Your children?”

Nervousness made a rough lump in her throat – why she still felt that way, she had no idea. She supposed that she would fear for Leia’s safety, for Luke’s, all the days of her life. She was their mother, and she had trained them to defend themselves, and she still worried for them, even now. “They won’t be expected back for another two days.”

“You approve of them undergoing such strenuous tests.”

“They must,” she said, and folded her arms. “Their enemies are many.”

“These enemies are also yours. And ours.”

“What else did you expect from the Empire?”

A grunt. She glanced over. Sixth stepped silently out of the undergrowth and sat down on a rock, and leaned one shoulder against Jii-dan’s side. “Imps,” he added, and spat.

“Quite,” Padmé murmured in agreement.

Approaching footsteps and the wavering glow of a golden-lit lantern. There were still bandages wrapped around Jyn’s hand, and around her neck. “Dinner. It’s stew.”

“Go on ahead,” Padmé said, still watching the duel. “I’ll herd them in shortly.”

Jii-dan bowed, and she responded in kind, and she watched him and Sixth take up protective positions on either side of Jyn. 

The files that the three of them had stolen from one of the major Imperial archives had been filled with grim news. A single frozen image of Darth Vader followed by stormtroopers, advancing on a burning settlement; terse reports of yet another purge, from Sabé. 

On the other hand, Padmé knew that the galaxy was almost at its tipping point: the last communique from Breha Organa listed over three thousand pledges of support. Planets and systems were represented, and so were various organizations. All were determined to resist the crushing weight of the Empire’s power. 

More than half of those pledges of support had been directed at her, personally.

And yet the voice of her heart cautioned her to wait.

She did not know what she was waiting for.

“Quarter,” someone said, nearby.

Padmé blinked, and looked: and that was Ahsoka halfway up one of the trees that surrounded the clearing, weaponless; the rueful expression on her face was illuminated by one of her own lightsabers. 

“You’ll have something new to teach the twins,” Kenobi said, powering down his weapon. 

“Good, because we’re running out of lessons,” Ahsoka said, as she hopped back down to the ground.

Padmé winced, a little, at the squelch – and at their words. “Surely they still have many things to learn.”

“Leia and Luke?” Ahsoka shook her head. “They are teaching themselves, too. We are starting to learn from them.”

“They may end up devising an entirely new lightsaber form or two,” Kenobi added as he started on the path that Jyn and the others had taken. 

“Which means it’s almost time,” Ahsoka said.

“Time,” Padmé echoed.

The path led them to the larger structure that housed the kitchen, the long table at which they all ate and worked, and the ’fresher units.

Two extra places at the table: and Padmé sighed, and put the empty bowls and utensils away. “Not tonight,” she said as Dormé sat down next to her and placed a loaf of bread next to the pot of stew.

“I forgot,” Dormé said, looking abashed.

“I miss them, too,” Padmé said, quietly, before dishing out a bowl.

Ahsoka took one of the places across. Drops of water on her hands, and the lingering leaf-like scent of soap. “We need to talk,” she said as she cut the bread in half.

“What is it almost time for?” She tried to stay calm, but she heard the knocking of her spoon against the rim of her bowl. 

Kenobi sat down next to Ahsoka. Heaped stew into two bowls: one for himself, and the other that he passed to Sixth. “Yoda would have given us some advice if we had been anywhere near him. If he’d been willing to speak to us. As he isn’t, then there is a decision that is left up to me and Ahsoka, and to no one else.”

“Leia and Luke,” Ahsoka said. “We’re almost done with teaching them.”

“It won’t be long now before they pass out of the padawan stage,” Kenobi said. “And one of the tests that they must take before they do that is – they have to build their lightsabers.”

A sigh, beside her.

Padmé clenched her jaw for a moment. Nodded acquiescence and understanding. “So you believe that they will both become Jedi.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “I’m not a Jedi, and Obi-Wan gave up on passing on the code a long time ago.” That was a surprising answer. “We’ve been teaching the twins some of what the Jedi knew. But they’re not Jedi. It’s too dangerous to be one of those.”

“Lightsabers are the traditional weapon of those who are sensitive to the Force,” Obi-Wan said. “And that is what your children are. They are strong in the Force, and now they are also skilled at wielding it. So they must have the weapons that are best suited to those skills, to their training.”

“The parts,” Padmé murmured, to nods from Dormé, Jyn, and Jii-dan. “We can split hairs on whether my children are Jedi or not – but we cannot split hairs on the parts that they will need. As I have come to understand it, the critical parts are the most difficult ones to come by.”

“Kyber crystals,” Jyn said. 

Padmé turned in her direction, just quick enough to see how she seemed to motion to her throat. 

Kenobi, too, sounded surprised. “Yes. Kyber crystals. They can only be found on a bare handful of worlds in the immensity of this galaxy.”

“Every one of those worlds holds an Imperial garrison,” Ahsoka said. “And I wouldn’t put it past – them – to guard those worlds with Emperor’s Hands.”

“And how many of these crystals will be needed?” Padmé asked, clenching her hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

“One for every standard-sized blade. But – ” Ahsoka seemed to hesitate. Padmé saw her twist her fingers into a worried knot. “We’ve taught them the forms we’re each familiar with.”

“What Ahsoka is trying to say,” Kenobi said, “is that we would only need two kyber crystals for the twins, had they both chosen to become more proficient in the single-saber forms. But they both show a remarkable aptitude for fighting with at least two weapons.”

“Leia said – Leia said she wanted to follow your example,” Ahsoka said.

Padmé blinked again. “Mine?”

“How many times has she seen you fight with multiple blasters?”

Dormé laughed – a short sound, but one that sounded highly amused. “That makes a lot of sense. Sabé and I, and their mother – we all did pretty well with holding weapons in each hand.”

“And using them at the same time,” Padmé said, and conceded the point. “Four kyber crystals, then.”

“At least,” Kenobi said. 

“Problematic.”

Whispering, at the end of the table. 

Padmé raised an eyebrow at the scowl on Sixth’s face, at the tic in Jii-dan’s jaw. “Speak,” she said, kindly.

“Eadu,” Sixth growled. “Imperial kyber crystal refinery. One of them.”

“There are others,” Jyn said, and spat out a Huttese curse. “I won’t go there.”

“I don’t want to think about going there at all,” Kenobi said, and Padmé watched him shake his head. “Why would you even bring it up?”

“Because her father is imprisoned there,” Jii-dan said.

“ _Not_ imprisoned. He’s practically in charge of the refinery. It’s his karking laboratory,” Jyn hissed. “You want to go there, please yourself, I’m not coming along.”

“Even when you can provide Luke and Leia with the safe passage that they’ll need?” 

Padmé thought that Jii-dan only _sounded_ mild. 

“They can go somewhere else to find those crystals.”

“Can we compromise?” Dormé asked, after a tense moment. “Can we put Eadu on the list of possible destinations?”

“What are the other possibilities?” Kenobi asked. “Ilum? I doubt we’ll get lucky and find another source of crystals on Utapau.”

“We can still put the word out,” Padmé said. “In fact, we have to. I’ll send messages to Mon Mothma and to Bail – ”

Ahsoka sighed. “Let me reach out to my network as well.”


	2. Chapter 2

A few nights later, she opened her eyes to the worried look on Ahsoka’s face – and so Padmé lifted a hand from the covers and said, “Kitchen. Tea. I am not having this conversation without a drink.”

“Tea?” Ahsoka asked. “No. You’re going to need something stronger than that.”

Padmé shook her head. 

It began to rain as she threaded the path to the structure that contained the kitchen: a misting soundless rain that seemed to cling to her hastily-thrown-on jacket and boots.

Six scoops of black tea left. If she used those now, the canister would be left empty.

Empty, for the first time. Even in the first few years of running and hiding, she’d always been able to find someone who was willing to take the risk of sending her more. 

Now she had no idea of knowing when she could track down another source.

“Sorry,” Ahsoka said. “I know you’ve been trying to purchase more of that for a while now.”

“I can manage without,” Padmé said, and it was only a little difficult to say those words in a nonchalant way.

If Ahsoka could sense that she was unhappy, she didn’t say a word; instead, she fetched out the cups before sitting down.

Padmé took a deep breath of the scent that lingered within the now-empty canister, and scrubbed the remaining sleep and fatigue from her eyes.

The water began to boil in its vessel.

Count to fifty as the water came down from the peak of its boiling. She divided the loose tea between the mugs. Count to one hundred and fifty, to brew.

She pushed one of the mugs in Ahsoka’s direction. “You were talking about getting the word out. Did you get a response?”

“One of my informants,” was the reply. “I’d thought he was dead.”

“You – lost him?”

“He missed several check-ins while he was on Darknell,” Ahsoka said, quietly. “And when I went there myself for a drop-off, I sent him orders to make contact. All I ever got in response was silence. I thought I’d lost him.”

“Then we are fortunate that he still seems to be alive,” Padmé said. “If, indeed, it’s still him. If he’s still loyal to you.”

She patted Ahsoka’s arm when she winced. “Something like that.” A pause. 

Padmé sipped her tea. 

“His name is Cassian Andor,” Ahsoka said, after a while. “He’s gone underground in the Outer Rim – he said he was close enough to Eadu to catch some of the coded transmissions from the planet.”

“By _close enough_ he means he’s not on the planet.”

“Probably. And he’s cautious. He wouldn’t be in easy range. The distances in that part of the galaxy – I wish Wedge were still here.”

“He’s being useful,” Padmé said. “Only he’s somewhere else.”

“We could have used a pilot. We’re going to need one. And he already knows how to work with Leia, and with Luke.”

“He’s saved our lives before,” Padmé said. “Now he has a chance to protect Breha. I hope for her sake he does a good job.”

“Yes.”

“Padmé,” Ahsoka said, after a long silence.

“If you plan to apologize for this – this mission,” Padmé murmured, “let me save you the trouble, and also refuse your apology.”

“We could just as well have trained the twins to use other weapons.”

“You did. I was there. You taught them everything you could think of, everything that they might need.” She swallowed hard. “And besides. What do our enemies use? If my children are to fight – Emperor’s Hands, and _him_ – then we must give them the right weapons for the job. And the right weapons for those job are lightsabers.”

“I wish there was some other way to fight.”

Padmé chuckled, a little bitterly. “We could build ourselves a planet-sized weapon.”

“That’s not funny.” But Ahsoka smiled, wanly, as she said it.

“It’s not. I’m sorry.” Padmé sighed, and relented, and drew Ahsoka close. She wondered if she was only giving comfort, or was also taking it. “We have to use all the weapons we have. You. Me. The twins.”

“I know how to be a weapon. I wish I didn’t have to be. And I wish you didn’t have to be.”

“The moment I was elected to my royal position, I became Naboo’s weapon,” Padmé said. “And I have been one since.”

Ahsoka nodded, and sipped her tea. “This is really good. I’m starting to understand why you like it so much.”

“Helps me think.”

“We’re going to need more.”

Padmé sighed again. “And where are we to get some?”

Silence, and then: “That’s it.”

Padmé blinked.

“Cassian, and the twins, and tea, and kyber crystals,” Ahsoka said. “We can tie it all together.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Padmé said.

“Some of it we’ll have to improvise.”

“And that is something we do on each mission – but this one is more delicate than most.”

Ahsoka nodded, grimly. “I know. Hear me out: I’ll take the twins to one of the sectors near Naboo. We’ll say, we’re looking for rare varieties of tea. We’ll pick some of this stuff up. And I’ll ask Cassian to meet us there. We’ll file all the flight plans. We’ll be ordinary merchants. But on the way out of the sector – we’ll disappear. Head to the Outer Rim. And Cassian will take us to wherever it is he’s hiding out to spy on Eadu.”

“Risky.”

Padmé turned partway in her seat, and took in the scowl on Jyn Erso’s face. 

“You’re really going to that place?” Jyn continued.

“We may not have a choice,” Padmé said. “I’m sorry I don’t have any more tea to offer you.”

“I don’t drink tea,” was the response.

“I can keep the twins safe,” Ahsoka said. “And Cassian, if it’s still really him, will help me. He’s already keeping an eye on the installation.”

Jyn’s mouth was set in a firm, unhappy, thin line.

Padmé finished off her tea. “Ahsoka, who else will you need to go with you?”

“Dormé,” was the reply.

“No,” Jyn said. “ _I’ll_ go.”

“You said your father,” Padmé began.

“He can hang for all I care,” Jyn snapped. “I’ll go, because your twins need protecting, and you can’t go, not if she’s planning to head in the direction of Naboo first.”

“Thank you,” Padmé said.

Jyn only turned away, and headed out.


	3. Chapter 3

She could not keep still.

Half-hearted muggy rustling in the distant tops of the trees, and steam rising from the soil beneath her feet.

The shape of a commlink, digging into the palm of her hand. It had once trailed wires, had once been made of half-rickety panels and boards – until Luke had turned it over and over in his clever fingers, and taken it to the portable workbench that he’d cobbled together from the supplies on _White Base_. 

The shape of a holdout blaster, clinging to the curve of her hip. It was almost too powerful for its deceptively small size. She’d used it to save lives more than once. Leia had taken it from somewhere in the Kuat shipyards. 

Time spent in hyperspace, and the immense distances between the planets and systems of the Outer Rim, and the mission itself – far more dangerous than a simple supply run ought to be – 

Padmé paced, and worried, and wondered – and then she stopped dead in her tracks. A weight on her shoulder. 

She turned around to see who had touched her – and then she cried out, joy and relief and worry echoing from the trees. “Sabé – but why are you here – you’re supposed to be protecting Mon Mothma – ”

“And that is the work that I will be going back to, as soon as I complete the task at hand,” was her friend’s reply. 

“Task?”

“Not tea, but something just as important.” Sabé handed over a small bag. “You and Mon Mothma and I, we don’t know much about constructing lightsabers. But – you _did_ send us a message, didn’t you? Components for lightsabers. We asked around. We looked in several archives. This is what we’ve been able to scrounge up.” 

“I’m afraid I’m too preoccupied right now,” Padmé began.

“That’s why you’ll need me around.” And without any warning, Sabé clenched her hand into a fist, and let it fly – 

The spiraling worry of Padmé’s thoughts stopped dead. Fled her entirely. Instinct took over, and the knowledge that was not within her mind – the knowledge that was embedded into the very bones and sinews of her – and she blocked the punch. Seized Sabé at hip and shoulder, planted her feet. 

“No,” and was Sabé laughing? Was she so insolent? Padmé hissed as her friend twisted away from her hands, and darted in again – this time she was aiming a kick into Padmé’s side – 

Padmé swore, viciously, and caught the force of Sabé’s moving leg on her crossed forearms. Lunged in low, dropping her shoulder to ram straight into the other woman’s torso – 

“Oof, you’re still relying on that old trick of yours,” Sabé said, and somehow managed to twist away again – Padmé cursed – 

“Do you talk to your children that way?” 

“Shut up,” Padmé hissed, and this time she found the strength to complete the throw. Splatters of soil on her hands, on her friend’s face, and when she swiped her hand across her face she tasted her own tears and her own sweat, mingling on her cheeks.

She fell to her knees, and clutched the commlink to her heart, and didn’t notice Sabé pick herself up from her sprawl. Didn’t hear Sabé’s voice.

Twin weights surrounding her. Familiar faces, almost as familiar as her own in the mirror. Her two friends. Sabé on one side and Dormé on the other.

“It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.” Which one of them was speaking to her?

Crackling in the palm of her hand. She turned the commlink around. She almost put it to her ear.

“No need for you to respond, Home. This is One speaking.” 

Padmé almost cried out in relief: for it was Leia’s voice, shaken, but alive. Definitely alive.

“Had to fight our way through some really terrible weather. No one told us about the storms on Eadu, not even Jyn.” Quick indistinct mumbling. “Tea, right. That’s important. It’s a decent amount. There should be enough to last for a while, and it’ll be easier to get more, now. We’ve buried it in the depths of the cargo hold – we don’t want it getting wet. We don’t want to waste it.”

Padmé smiled. 

“This is Two,” and now that was Luke. “Successfully picked up Fulcrum’s contact. He’s been beaten up a little, but he’s alive. He’s still with us. We’ll have new things to work on when we all get back. The things that he knows – we’ll be busy.” A pause. “Getting into position for landing. We’ll keep the lines open. We may not be able to talk to you. Please don’t respond.”

She was moving – she was being helped into her quarters. The bed seemed strange and soft and empty – the world itself seemed to lack the weight of her children’s presence.

“They’re well.”

Now she could put herself back together. Now she could recognize her friends again. Recent blisters on Dormé’s hand, from the kitchen and from weapons practice alike. New scars crisscrossing Sabé’s forearms. “Where have you been?” she asked, shaking her head in worry.

“Here and there. All kinds of places.” Sabé was long since past the point of hiding the expressions that crossed her face. A brief wince, and then the fleeting downturn of the corner of her mouth. “The more recent attempts on our friends’ lives – they’re getting more and more vicious, Padmé. We lost several soldiers in the last few skirmishes.”

“More and more systems break away from the Empire with every passing day,” Padmé said.

“So the Empire tries to hold on to what it has left. And now it will use all the resources at its disposal. Fear. Stormtroopers. Warships. In short: claws,” Dormé said.

“We know how to deal with claws.”

Sabé’s smile was sharper than claws. “We do. Your children do. Fulcrum does.”

Where was the sound of a vicious driving rain coming from? Padmé touched the commlink again. It buzzed beneath her fingertips.

“Jyn.” That was Ahsoka’s voice. “Are you sure we’re supposed to be going this way? The schematics – ”

“Either you trust me or you don’t.” Utter darkness in Jyn’s voice – that was to be expected – but something in Padmé’s chest lurched at the despair that lay beneath.

“We trust you.” Leia. Ever diplomatic. She was strong and she was capable and she carried terrible shadows within her. But when she spoke with others, when she tried to lead, she led gently: she kept her power in check.

“Then we’re going this way. I know where we’re heading,” Jyn said. 

Silence, again, except for the incessant whispering of the rain on distant Eadu.

Padmé allowed the others to coax her into eating, and into resting. “There’s no point in you wearing yourself out with them,” Dormé said, grave and sweet. “You might need that strength. We might need to help them out.”

“And in the meantime, we have to worry about these things,” Sabé said, motioning to the bag full of parts. 

“Should we call Kenobi?”

“I will do it,” Padmé said. 

Out into the daytime shadows and shade cast by the immense trees.

She followed one of the paths into the forest.

The commlink that she was still carrying chirped again, and this time the voice that filtered into the humid air was completely unfamiliar to her. “Fulcrum. There’s something wrong here.”

“Talk to me, Cassian,” was Ahsoka’s response.

“Look at these readouts, then look in those vats, and tell me if I’m seeing things.”

“The vats _read_ as full. They’re not,” and that was Luke, sounding concerned. 

“I had suspected as much when I started listening in,” and the voice that must have belonged to Cassian, to Ahsoka’s contact, was blurred around the edges with something that Padmé identified as fear. “Someone in this facility is diverting resources away from – I assume those refined materials are going away from the Empire.”

“Or to another one of its secret projects,” Jyn said. She sounded cold. Chilled. 

Fear, icy, clutching at Padmé’s heart. 

“We’re going to need a terminal.” That was Leia, and that was pride, almost displacing the fear. “Since we’re here and we’re trying to steal things, we might as well try to steal information too.”

A quiet chorus of acknowledgments.

“Padmé,” said a voice in the here and now. 

She met Kenobi’s eyes. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to think that we might need to check the fuel levels in the shuttle. Enough that we might need to get back to _White Base_.” There were lines in his face, and she knew those lines, and she couldn’t help but nod.

Retracing her steps, with a Jedi Master in tow. “I had hoped to speak to you about lightsabers,” she said.

“I will answer what questions you have.”

“Sabé is here. She brought us some parts.”

“Oh? I hope there are enough.”

The sounds of a scuffle broke out over the commlink. A handful of blaster shots. 

Leia, sounding calm: “We might as well have announced our presence to the garrison stationed here.”

“I agree. Time to move,” Ahsoka said. “Cassian, to the nearest storage area. Take the twins with you. Guard their backs – they might need time to find what they need. Jyn, you’re with me – we need to clear the path back to the freighter.”

“Can’t,” was the rapid response from Jyn.

“What do you mean, _can’t_?”

“There aren’t enough of us!”

“We’re only here for the kyber crystals – oh no,” Ahsoka said.

Padmé tried to swallow her fear, and failed.

“Time to go,” Kenobi said.


	4. Chapter 4

Silence, on the commlink, as _White Base_ powered through hyperspace.

Padmé told herself that her hands were not shaking.

“Guns,” Sabé said, as the alarms began to blare out for final approach.

“Sixth and Kenobi.” The armor chafed along Padmé’s shoulders, and along the left side of her ribcage.

“Clicks only when we drop out,” Dormé warned. “We won’t give them away by speaking.”

“Copy that,” Padmé said, and moved away from the cockpit.

She clenched her shaking hands into fists.

“I was not hoping that we would have to go out on a rescue mission for this.” Jii-dan looked solemn as he rose from one of the seats in the smallest galley. 

“We were always taking a risk, looking for something as rare and as important as kyber crystals,” Padmé murmured. “Nothing different between this mission and the one on which we tried to steal a Star Destroyer.”

“That is right. From a certain point of view.” A sigh. “Would that I might have been able to point you and your children in another direction. Ancient supply caches that belonged to the Jedi of old. Sixth and I had been charged with keeping a few secrets – but those places have long since been razed to the very stones that they stood on.”

She blinked at him. “You’re not Jedi. You said so. The two of you have insisted on it.”

“And Master Kenobi knows us not. Why would he?” Jii-dan shrugged, fluidly. “My connection to the Force, and Sixth’s, is just the same as yours. Those of your handmaidens. We are ordinary beings. I cannot call upon the Force for aid. But I believe in its existence. I believe that it guides me and my movements. I believe that it drives my destiny.”

She bit her lip.

“You have questions, and I – or the Force – may have answers. Please, if I may set your mind at ease – ”

“My children,” Padmé said, and looked away.

Silence.

Jii-dan looked grave, when she looked at him again. 

“They are somewhere between life and death,” was the quiet reply. “There is a wall between them and the Force. A wall of crystals.”

Alerts, once again, and Padmé felt the pulse in her veins quicken. Felt the questions in her mind fall away. They were at Eadu.

They were walking into a fight.

She hurried back to the cockpit – and stared.

Because Sabé was staring at the comms console.

Dormé looked nervous – but she cleared her throat and began to speak. “Supply run.”

“Now you’re the right size to be bringing in crates and things,” was the response. “Isolated as this place is, it still needs to keep running. What do you have?”

“Food, water, parts for fabrication,” Dormé said.

“Follow the beacon.” 

Padmé patched in to the ship’s comms. “Stay alert,” she said, and waited for Sixth and Kenobi’s responses.

Sabé brought _White Base_ to a halt on a landing pad that seemed just a little too small, and hit the switch that would make it look like the engines had all been powered down. “If we need to run – ”

“You won’t get much lead time. Be ready,” Padmé said. “Dormé. You’re with me. Kenobi, too. The others will stay here with you, Sabé – they can pretend to offload.”

“May the Force be with you, Padmé.”

She turned on her heel, and made one more adjustment to her gloves – then she opened one of the smaller exit doors, and stopped right in her tracks.

“Hello,” said a thin human male. Long black hair straggling into his too-bright, too-feverish eyes. Dark skin, hands gnarled by piloting, and a nervous glance that darted from side to side. “I know who you’re looking for: you’re with those children, right? The ones with the strange abilities?”

Padmé reached for the blaster on her belt. “Are they hurt?”

“No, no, not at all. But we’ve been looking after them. Galen and me. We’re keeping them safe from the Imperials.”

“How are you not an Imperial,” Dormé asked, “when you’re dressed like an Imperial pilot?”

“Because that’s what I was three hours ago. Not an Imperial now. I’m – I’m defecting, if you’ll have me, if you need a pilot. I’m a pilot. Bodhi Rook is my name.”

“And this Galen you speak of? We know of a Galen Erso.”

“That’s him. He’s here. He’s helping guard the children. Yours and his.”

“Jyn,” Dormé said, quietly.

“That’s the one,” Bodhi said.

Padmé swallowed, hard, before slanting a look in Kenobi’s direction. 

“He’s telling the truth – so far.”

“Take me to my friends,” Padmé said.

It was all she could do not to suddenly sick up within the meandering twists and turns of the crawlspaces – but every now and then the boots of stormtroopers marched over her head, and then she held her breath and kept moving after Bodhi.

“He does seem to know where he’s going,” Kenobi muttered, as they rested for a moment.

“Unless he knows that he’s to lead us into a trap,” Padmé said.

Any reply that he might have made was forestalled by a loud banging noise – and then, just ahead of Padmé, Bodhi opened a panel, and slithered through, calling quiet encouragement. “Come on!”

“I’ll go first.” And she flattened herself to the walls to allow Kenobi to pass, with lightsaber in hand.

Through the open panel. A few breathless moments. Any moment now, there would be blue light and that distinctive hiss – 

“Padmé.”

She blinked. 

Kenobi beckoned her forward. “Come, but as quietly as you can. There’s a patrol heading this way, and we don’t want to call their attention.”

Hands reaching for her as she emerged from the crawlspace: familiar hands. Ahsoka, looking worried, but unmistakably alive. Jyn, for once without bandages – but she looked wary. 

Beside Jyn stood a human male with olive skin. The thick shadow of his moustache and beard could not disguise the determined set of his jaw. There was a look in his dark eyes that spoke of many years of fighting in the shadows.

“Where are my children?” she asked.

Ahsoka wordlessly pointed through one of the other doors.

Strange flickering crystal-light.

Leia and Luke – they were alive – their hands were joined tightly together as they stood in the center of the room. They breathed. But there was a blindness in their eyes. 

Lights pulsed through the room – blue in Leia’s hand and green in Luke’s.

Voices, whispering, all around her: the voices of her children, seemingly multiplied – 

Padmé fell to her knees, and said their names: “Leia Amidala – Luke – come back to me.”

Did he turn his head when she spoke? Did she smile?

Silence.

And then: “Mama.”

She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around them. Felt them cling to her in return. “I was so worried for you,” she whispered.

“The crystals were powerful,” Leia said. “We held on to each other so that we would not be lost in the dreams.”

“And now?” Padmé asked, now searching their faces with worry in her heart.

“Now things will be all right.” Luke smiled, and let her go – only to show that the crystal in his hand had fallen neatly into two pieces. “Now we’ll be able to create something good.”

Two crystals, as well, in Leia’s free hand. “It’s more than enough.”

“You said these crystals were refined – how did you get them?” Padmé asked. 

“We had help,” Leia said.

“But now we have to leave. Now we have to save him,” Luke said.

And she followed them back to the others, where Leia was quietly speaking to Bodhi. “If you can find some excuse to get Galen to our ship – we can get him out, and you. We can take you to safety.”

“I don’t want safety – there’s no such thing,” was Bodhi’s response. Strangely, he was smiling. “I can fly you in and out of danger. That’s what I want.”

“Then you can come with us,” Padmé heard Leia say. “As for Galen – ” 

Padmé followed her daughter’s gaze, which landed squarely on Jyn. 

Who looked away. “I don’t care what you do with him.”

“The Rebel Alliance will,” said the man who stood with Ahsoka. “If we can get him out, he’ll be useful.”

“Where do we find this Galen?” Kenobi asked.

“We’ll deal with him,” Ahsoka said. “The rest of you, get to _White Base_.”

“You won’t need to tell us twice,” Dormé said. 

“This is Cassian Andor, mama,” Luke said, leading the man forward. “He helped protect us.” A sudden mischievous grin. “And he also helped us find the tea that you like so much.”

Padmé smiled. “Then it seems that thanks are in order.”

Cassian bowed, briefly. “No thanks are necessary – Senator.”

“I go by my own name these days,” Padmé said. “There is no need to stand on ceremony.”


	5. Chapter 5

She had been expecting to find her children in their own bunks – they had long since chosen to sleep in separate rooms, and perhaps that was for the best. Luke’s room was also his workshop, and Padmé had learned to be careful when walking around in its cramped confines, lest she tread on some piece of wire or some half-discarded project of his. On the other hand, Leia tended to keep her few possessions in neat order, except for the slates and books that she sometimes left willy-nilly, on various surfaces, depending on where her reading had been interrupted. 

As _White Base_ heaved itself into ponderous motion once more, however, she saw them stop dead in one of the passageways. Luke had a pained expression on his face, and Leia looked more worried than anything – and without either one of them saying a single word, they had both turned the corner to head for Leia’s quarters.

Padmé trailed after them, and told herself sternly to respect their personal space: she would stay only on the threshold of the room. She wouldn’t enter unless she was specifically invited to. 

She was still holding on to the bag of parts that Sabé had brought – and she cleared her throat and held it out. “As I understand it, you’re going to need this,” she said, as gently as she could given the side-to-side wobble in the ship’s movements. “Though I would suggest that the two of you rest for a short period of time – or wait until we get to safety.” She paused, and thought about Kenobi, about Ahsoka. “I don’t actually know how the process of constructing a lightsaber works.”

“Please come in,” was what Leia said, however, instead of answering the implied question. “Mama – the things we saw in the crystal dreams – ”

She felt her heart lurch with renewed pain, and she speedily sat down on the foot of the cramped bed, opening her arms to the two of them. “If you want to talk about it, then we’ll do that. If you don’t want to, or if you can’t, then we won’t.”

“Tell her about the – the one on Naboo,” Luke said.

“We saw a vision of a moonlight procession,” Leia said. “In Theed. You were in it, Mama, but – but it was your funeral procession.” The last words were muffled by Leia’s own hands and sleeves. “They laid you out on a bed of flowers. You looked like you were only sleeping. But every being that saw you, that saw the procession – they all looked so heartbroken.”

“They looked like they had all lost hope,” Luke added.

Padmé clutched at them, tightly. 

“It was a vision of something that happened in – in another place, in another time,” Leia said. “We were born, we were alive, but you were killed soon after. And because of that, we were separated. We both lost so much – first you, and then the people who were looking after us.”

“Our Masters – Kenobi and Tano,” Luke said, with a quiet sob. “And we never got to meet Dormé, or Sabé. Not our friends here on _White Base_. Not for a long time.”

“It was only a vision,” Padmé began, faltering.

“It was true, in that other place and time.” 

Leia sighed. “That was the worst of it, I think.”

“There was a vision of me in Darth Vader’s armor,” Luke said. “And one of you as the Emperor’s favorite apprentice.”

Padmé shivered.

“That’s not going to happen,” Leia declared. “Not now and not ever.”

“Yes,” Luke said.

“Why – why did you have to see those visions?” Padmé asked, after a moment.

“The crystals were testing us,” Leia said.

She saw Luke open his mouth to speak – but the words that she heard belonged to Sabé, who was speaking urgently over the ship’s comms. “We’re going to need a little help up here.”

“Sabé,” Padmé said, by way of response. “Are the others in trouble?”

“I’ll take over the controls.” A new voice; it belonged to Bodhi Rook. “I can fly this thing. That’s not the problem. The problem is, you’re going to want people manning the guns.”

“I’m staying right here to watch over you,” Sabé said.

Dormé came onto the comms, as well. “And I’m going to clear the cargo hold – I’m going to have to ask the two of you to get on the guns.”

“Done.” That voice, clipped and sure, could only have been Jyn’s. “Andor.”

“I told you, I’d rather be called by my first name,” said Cassian.

“ _Move_ ,” Sabé snapped.

“They might need our help,” Leia said, next to Padmé.

“I’ll send you into the fray myself, if you’re needed,” she said, quietly, to her children. “You know this to be true. But right now – right now you need to recover.”

“And then we’ll need to work on actually building the lightsabers,” Luke said. “No eating, no drinking, no sleeping, for however long it takes.”

She let him burrow more closely into her side.

Leia sighed, again, and closed her eyes. Spoke in the direction of the box that was wired into the ship’s comms. “At least tell us what’s going on, Sabé.”

Padmé smoothed her dark hair away from her ashen face.

“What’s going on,” Sabé said, sounding grim, “is that we may get into a fight before we find Galen Erso. I only know that he’s an important scientist working on Imperial projects. We’ve never had anyone like him defect before.”

“And we can’t ask Jyn any questions,” Luke said, quietly. “Ahsoka tried. She refused to answer. She’s angry at him. The kind of angry that can’t be fixed so easily.”

“That’s how anger works,” Leia said. “Unless you know how to use it properly.”

“Sorry sorry sorry,” Bodhi suddenly said over the ship’s comms – and in the next instant _White Base_ tilted over sharply onto its side, knocking everything to the floor.

Padmé hissed, and gathered her children into her arms once again. “Force’s sake,” she began.

The ship pitched again, and this time she could hear the muffled roars of turbolaser fire – and she glanced at the worn-down faces surrounding her, tried to breathe past the worry. “Suits,” she said.

“I’ll get them,” and Luke crawled towards one of the lockers, wobbling as the ship fought to return to a more even keel.

“Why aren’t we returning fire?” Leia asked.

Twin blasts as she asked the question, and new chatter on the comms: “Hard left, Jyn!” “I see it!”

“Thanks!” Bodhi cried, and even as Padmé helped Leia put on a flight suit, _White Base_ began to accelerate, the very walls groaning with the sudden stress.

“And you, Mama,” Luke said, worriedly.

She drew him to her, and quickly pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’ll get one from the lockers outside. You two – strap in, and close the door.”

“Please don’t leave us.”

“They might need some supervision.”

Leia shook her head. “Mama, please.”

“All hands brace for impact, we’ve got to come in for a very quick landing,” Bodhi suddenly announced.

She held on to her twins, and they clutched at her just as tightly, and the walls around them began to shudder and groan – 

“We’ve got this, you’re covered, whatever it is you’re trying to do – do it!” Jyn barked over the comms.

The commlink on Padmé’s belt crackled to life. “Almost there – _duck!_ – Bodhi? Go, go, _go_!”

“Ahsoka,” Leia said, sounding halfway between frightened and relieved.

“Going, going, hyperdrive,” Bodhi said. “Coordinates?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Dormé called. “Heading back now.”

Footsteps in the corridor, and the hiss of the door opening.

Padmé looked up.

“Mission accomplished,” Kenobi said, though he looked too winded to smile. “I might be in need of some bandages, however.”

She shook her head at his singed sleeves, at the gaping holes in his robes. “Get along with you. I have other matters to attend to.”

“It appears that you do,” he said, kindly. “I should not neglect to mention this, however: it appears that the Empire has lost one of its most prominent scientists.”

“Galen Erso, yes,” Padmé said, nodding. “I will speak to him eventually.”

“And I will need to rest. Luke, Leia – don’t even think about lightsabers until we’ve successfully evaded pursuit.”

“Yes, Master,” she heard the twins say.


	6. Chapter 6

She couldn’t stop herself from walking past the door one more time – the door that, at Leia’s vehement insistence, was to be opened only by three people: “Master Kenobi. Master Tano. And my mother. Everyone else – please just leave us alone.”

Padmé remembered her son’s clammy hands, and the tremor in her daughter’s voice, and she didn’t open the door. She could see them just fine through the fogged-up pane.

The first time she’d checked in on them, she’d thought that there was something wrong with the little window – that the window was too scratched, or too dirty, because she couldn’t see them clearly: their blurred outlines, each tinged with the respective colored glows emanating from the crystals clutched in their hands. Blue for Leia and green for Luke.

Their outlines weren’t actually fuzzy. The window was mostly clear. But, spinning and spiraling around them: a dense cloud of metal. The parts that they needed for their weapons. Power cells, and several different kinds of circuits. Switches and buckles and grip mechanisms. 

In the center of that dense cloud were her children: and they had been locked in their trances for at least ten hours now.

Padmé took a deep breath, and forced herself to walk away. As much as she would have wanted to hide herself away in a corner, as much as she would have wanted to simply turn her back on the rest of the beings aboard _White Base_ , she couldn’t afford the luxury. Not when tempers were coming to the boiling point.

But she still went back to her room. She still stood for several long minutes in the ’fresher, where the water washed away the salt of her tears but not the hitch in her breathing. She still faced herself, naked and alone, in her private quarters.

Too many lines and too many scars. 

Not enough victories.

She pressed a panel next to her bed, and out popped a small sturdy box. She didn’t want to touch the japor snippet; she didn’t want to see it. She brushed it aside anyway, and reached for the elaborately decorated key that she’d left at the bottom of the box.

The key would only work if she was holding it, and if she spoke the pass-phrase; and so she whispered, through gritted teeth: “Aggressive negotiations.”

Out clicked the teeth of the key.

To her closet, and to the box in the very back of it, where one final remnant of her royal regalia remained. A dress of cloth-of-silver, decorated with hundreds of little blue jewels – but she brushed the rich rippling material aside in order to reach the box of cosmetics.

White makeup, and traces of red – and she had long worn those colors as “Amidala”. They made up the mask that she relied on to present the appearance of neutrality, of being the balance in the scales, as factions and personalities around her maneuvered for power. She drew in her eyebrows and darkened her eyelashes, and painted on the scar of remembrance.

There was no one to help her with her plaits, or with her hairpins. Sabé and Dormé were already preoccupied, as were Leia and Luke.

She felt her skin crawl as she pulled on the clothes that she often wore while she was on the ship – nothing more than sturdy trousers and an oversized shirt, and an old pair of boots – but she took one deep breath after another, and stood straight and proud, with her shoulders thrown back and her head held high.

If she had to wear this mask once again in order to lead, in order to shepherd those who resisted the crushing influence of the Empire, then she would do it in the right way.

Blaster at her hip. Sleeves in order. She threw one of her warmest jackets on, and activated ship’s comms from her bedside. “This is – this is Padmé Naberrie of _White Base_. Will everyone please head to the bridge. We need to talk.” 

There was no need to hurry. If she got there before the others did, then she would wait for them, regally, patiently; and if they got there before she did, then they would wait for her, for it would be her arrival that would signal the beginning of the meeting.

Just a few doors away from the bridge, Sabé presented herself, and curtseyed deeply. Worry and resolve in her eyes. “My lady,” she said, quietly.

Padmé reached for her hand, pressing it between both of her own. “What I am about to do might well mean our destruction.”

“It could also mean the beginning of the end for the Empire,” Sabé said. “And whatever the outcome, you’ll have me. I will do everything that you ask me to, and everything that is in my power, to make sure that your wishes are carried out.”

“Until my dying day,” added Dormé, as she stepped into view. The words were spoken around deep gulps for breath.

“Thank you,” Padmé said, and then she moved past the two of them.

The weight of their gazes on her back as they fell in behind her was almost familiar.

And so were the shocked looks on the faces of the beings who were scattered around the consoles and chairs of the bridge.

Off to one side, Bodhi stood protectively over a man who had once looked imperious, who looked like he had once known exactly where he was placed in the context of the galaxy and in the context of his passions, and who had had that certainty yanked from him. There was something about the shadows dogging the aquiline planes of that man’s face that made her think of – of herself. 

Sixth and Jii-dan, leaning against each other, and they only looked like they were at ease. They only looked like they were lounging. She narrowed her eyes at the way that Jii-dan seemed to be tilting his head this way and that, as though listening to the tiniest sounds: various consoles beeping quietly to themselves, and the breaths of the others. 

Then she caught the controlled twitch of Sixth’s hand toward his much larger firearm – it was large enough that he could comfortably rest its muzzle against the grates that formed the floor of the room – and she took a moment to be grateful that he had proved his loyalty to her, to her children, and to her allies, over and over again.

Jyn was sitting at the main flight console, and Padmé understood the way the woman’s eyes darted to almost every corner of the room, then back to the controls and the lights before her, before settling on the sickly mottled light of hyperspace. Then the cycle would begin again.

Cassian stayed within arm’s reach of Jyn. When she met his eyes he seemed to stand up straighter – and then he saluted her. The salute was different from Sabé’s, but it was a salute all the same: fist to heart, arm straight across his chest. 

She would have beckoned him forward if not for the fact that he seemed comfortable, caught and held in Jyn’s orbit; instead she smiled, and went to him, and offered her hand.

His hand was worn and rough in hers.

And then she turned to look at the two near the door. They didn’t need to flank it, and they didn’t need to place their hands near their weapons. 

Kenobi’s eyebrows were still moving in the direction of his hairline as she approached. “I can hardly believe,” he said, “that it has been many years since I saw you with – with your mask on. Looking at you now, it feels like it was only yesterday – ” 

Grief in the lines that framed his mouth. 

“I wouldn’t be wearing this mask,” she said, using his words, “not again, not if I could help it. But I must. And you of all people would understand.”

“It’s part of your armor. I do understand,” Kenobi said. 

She bowed to him, and left him to the pain that was the constant weight on his bowed shoulders.

And Ahsoka was there, stepping forward to embrace her. “We’re here. We’re with you. I’m not afraid.”

“I’m grateful for your strength, and for your courage,” Padmé said, quietly. “We’ll be needing all of it that you can give.”

“Everything I still have – it’s yours. And you knew that.”

Padmé bowed, again, and went to stand beside the captain’s chair, facing most of the others. “You know who I am, or at the very least you’ve heard of me,” she said, quietly. “But I do not know all of you.” She slanted her eyes toward Bodhi and the man sitting slumped next to him. “Are you friend or foe?”

A disbelieving snort, from the pilot’s chair.

She kept her eyes on the weary-looking human – who breathed as though he were in pain, and then rose to his feet, revealing his Imperial uniform and the holes and tatters in it.

As she watched, he reached up for his rank insignia – and then tore the colors and cylinders off, throwing them to the floor. “I used to work for the Empire. I was one of their chief scientists. My name is Galen Erso. I throw myself upon your mercy – Queen of Naboo.” He seemed to hesitate. “Only – I do not know which of them you are.”

“I was the one who was proclaimed dead,” Padmé said. “I was known as Amidala. Now that name belongs to my daughter – to Leia, whom you succored on Eadu. Why did you do so? Why have you turned away from the Empire?”

“Because I’ve seen too much death, and because I’ve been the cause of too much death.” Galen looked away. “When Rebel sympathizers sabotaged the prototype Star Destroyers at Kuat, I was called in to modify the designs. To add more weapons. I did everything I could in order to delay the actual production lines from getting started.”

“And yet we’re already hearing reports of orbital bombardment,” Cassian said, clipped. Disgust twisting his features. “Cities dying in a hailstorm of turbolasers. It’ll only be a matter of time before we hear of a world, or worlds, getting blasted apart.”

Galen bowed his head. “Those cities and those worlds will be on my conscience.”

Padmé raised her hand to forestall another angry exclamation. “That will only go so far,” she said. “We must find a way to protect the worlds of the galaxy – or, failing that, we must find a way to stop the Empire from continuing to produce these superweapons of theirs.”

“I will answer for my crimes – and I will place myself at your disposal,” was Galen’s quiet reply. “My life is entirely in your hands.”

Sabé coughed, quietly.

Padmé glanced at the remorse in Galen’s face, and the obstinate light in Jyn’s eyes. “We will speak of reparations, but not now. I’ve called you here for a different reason.” 

She took a deep breath, and met their eyes in turn. “It’s time,” she said, “or it’s almost time. The galaxy groans under the chains and the shackles that have been forced onto it. We have done what we can, from the shadows. And we have won these hidden victories, but now hiding will no longer suffice.”

Another deep breath. “Those of you who know my other name, know that I have been fighting this fight for a long time indeed. It has consumed all my waking hours. It has already taken one part of my life. It may well take everything else that I have tried to keep for myself. It may well take my children. The very same children who are, even now, preparing to declare themselves as squarely against the Empire. The moment they ignite those weapons that they are now creating, they will become targets. _I_ will become a target once again.

“I am speaking to you now because I want to offer you one last chance to break away. One last chance to save yourselves. You will all have your own abilities at fading into the shadows. You will all know how to disappear. You can still resume your former lives. You can still try to win your way back into the graces of the – the false order that the Empire has imposed on this galaxy. But if you stay with me, if you stay with my children – you must stay until the very end, no matter how bitter it might be.”

Sullen silence – but it lasted for only a moment.

Clang of boots on the grates. “If we ran,” Jyn said, spitting out the words as though they were volleys of laserfire, “where would we go? What would happen? We’d be snapped up by stormtroopers. We’d get hauled into some stinking Imperial installation. I’ve seen my fair share of prisons, and almost all of them were run by the Imps, and I was lucky to get out alive each time. I don’t plan to become a prisoner. I don’t plan to get shot in the back. If I can do something for my friends, if I can do something that might be considered good, then I’ll do it. I’ll fight, because that’s what it means to do good.”

Padmé nodded at her. “Welcome aboard.”

“She intended to speak for herself – but she speaks for us, too,” Jii-dan said. “And in the interest of names, and true identities, we must tell you who we really are.”

Sixth merely grunted.

“I am Chirrut Îmwe,” Jii-dan said. “And this man whom you know as Sixth is, in actuality, Baze Malbus. We are the last Guardians of the Whills. We have been driven far from our home and from our temple. The Empire blasted those places into dust. But even though we have run to save our lives, to save the memory of those holy places, we have also fought. And we won’t stop fighting.”

Padmé thought she was the only one who saw Dormé’s mouth move: “I knew it.”

She turned to Cassian when he cleared his throat. “I’ve only been doing this since I was six. But even if I had had a happy life, even if I hadn’t lost everything – I’d like to believe that I would still have chosen to fight the Empire. They might have claimed that they would bring peace and order to the galaxy – but they’re doing it by killing. Millions are dead, and they are still building weapons to kill millions more. You can’t expect peace to follow all that death. Only death can follow all that death.”

“I came from the Empire,” Bodhi said. “And I’ll tell you, and anyone and everyone who’ll listen: that’s exactly what they want. They want to rule over the dead in a dead galaxy. Maybe I should have broken away sooner. Maybe I could have done something. I’ll carry those regrets around with me until my dying day. But I can also do something now. I can fight now. That’s what I’ll do.”

Padmé glanced in the direction of the door.

Kenobi only chuckled: a hollow sound. “I have opposed the Empire from its first day. I certainly don’t intend to stop now.”

“Neither do I,” Ahsoka said. 

Padmé glanced at Galen.

Who bowed his head and said, quietly but clearly, “I have left the Empire. I will not return to the fold. If I can do something to help pay for my sins – I’ll do it.”

“We can at least promise to treat you well,” Padmé said. “We are not in the habit of abusing those who have surrendered to us.”

“I would have deserved the mistreatment.”

She glanced over her shoulder, and took courage from the smile on Sabé’s face. From the press of Dormé’s hand.

And she met their gazes once again, and said, “As you were. Leave the work of coordinating with the other leaders to me. I’ll speak to each of you about tactics – Kenobi, wait!”

“The twins,” Ahsoka said, before rushing out the door as well.

Padmé felt her heart knock painfully and fearfully against her ribs, and glanced helplessly around her – and before she could really register what she was doing, she was already chasing Ahsoka through the corridors, and all the way to the door that she had been waiting outside of.

The cloud of metallic bits was gone. 

The door hung open, now, revealing the motionless forms of her children: Leia and Luke, slumped together. Kenobi was checking on them. She needed to hold them, needed to see if they were all right.

“They’re all right,” Kenobi said, after a moment.

Padmé took Leia’s hand.

And she knew that she was staring at the four hilts on the floor.


End file.
